A New Day
by professorrosi
Summary: She was a maiden once. A beautiful innocent maiden but the world had hardened her heart and Fate had laughed at her struggles. But now, Coincidence has given her a chance (several chances really) to let it soften again. Dagny of Ki-Gal goes from loving daughter to troubled sister to whore to blacksmith and even princess as she melts into the arms of her favorite trickster.
1. Chapter 1

'_In the beginning there was nothing as is always when stories of this nature begin. However it is so rarely touched on about how nothing truly is _no thing_. This tautology may seem trivial but I assure you it is an essential part of history. Simply put nothing is the lack of even itself for ideas and words and even that which makes the stars do not exist. It is amazingly horrific. _

'_Now aside from that the nothing ceased to exist. After that were the void and the darkness. From them two worlds were spawned. Niflheim, in the far north, is a world of clouds and shadows in whose center surges the fountain Hvergelmir, from which flows twelve rivers of ice. And in the south lays Muspelheim, which teems with rivers of fire. It came to pass that the warm air from the south carved out the frost giant Ymir from the ice in the north. Ymir became the father of all the giants, and his heifer Auðumbla licked out of the ice the first Asgardian, Buri. Buri had a son named Borr, who married the giantess Bestla. Borr and Bestla had three sons named Odin, Vili, and Ve, who are known as the Æsir. Odin Allfather and his brothers grew to hate the giants and slew Ymir and his blood formed a great sea. _

'_Odin, with his brothers having been slain, then raised Ymir's body from the sea and created Midgard between Niflheim and Muspelheim. With Ymir's bones he created mountains, and with the giants hair he created trees. Then Ymir's skull was raised upon four pillars to create our heavens. Within the skull contained sparks from Muspelheim, which became the sun, moon, and stars. When Midgard was complete, Odin created a home for us above it called Asgard. Between the two worlds the rainbow bridge was stretched and formed to create the Bifröst. _

'_Soon though Asgard and Midgard grew and became too populous. Famine and pestilence plagued the land. So using his everlasting power he created the other seven realms and laid upon them Asgardians and Midgardians alike to be their caretakers. From each of these the people grew and became different cultures and races. New tongues and new ways were born. _Even _in Asgard. We have Jör where the Allfather lives with his family and then there is our land of Ki-Gal, called Hulda in the City Tongue. Then it was beautiful because the world was right. But the strength it took for our king to do all of this weakened him forever. That is why every year he must fall into Odinsleep so that he may renew himself. _

'_After that there was peace. Yes, peace for centuries as the gods and goddesses were born and rose to power. Odin and his wife Frigga, who is mother to us all. He who is always watching, Heimdall. Tyr the blacksmith and new gods as well are still being born to noble families. However even such a world there were still those who wished to do harm. Laufey, King of the Frost Giants, sought to destroy Midgard and plunge it into a second Ice Age. The Allfather stopped him and stole his source of power so that he could never do it again. He lost his eye in the Ice Crusade but he brought back freedom from the strife of war._

'_Not shortly after the war ended he was blessed with his sons. The eldest Thor of golden hair and a brave heart, or so they say. His second born is Loki, a magic maker like his mother and eyes the color of Arnviðr Harbor. And that is why we are here today children to hear the stories and to know your history for when you meet the royal family today.'_

* * *

The children around the storyteller applauded as did their parents. She rose from her chair allowing her jacket to shift and catch the rays of light and send rainbows dancing across her warm caramel colored skin. She stretched her arms into the air and the turned side to side. Poor Nuri Bergljót could feel the muscles pulling on one another. _Five times_, she had told that story and not able to move the entire time save her arms which had danced back and forth across the air to paint the galaxy in the children's mind. She did not complain however. Why? "Every coin counts," Nuri reminded herself.

"Not if doing so breaks you in the process," said a voice from behind in perfect English. Smiling Nuri turned around to face her eldest daughter. Her coils of black hair caught the light in much the same way her mother's dress had and her light grey, almost blue, eyes looked clear.

Dagny stepped underneath the brightly colored awning in her silver dress. It was a dress that still took her mothers breath when she looked at her own work. She had spent the weeks leading up to the festival to create something just right for her two children. Della had all but demanded something red so that she could look like a dancer, which she was not, although it did suit her. Dagny however wanted something simpler; her dress wasn't silk or even satin. Instead it was a very thin linen cotton blend. It left her mid-drift bare as was the style for summer clothes in _Ki-Gal. _It also covered her collar bones yet was open enough to show her bare throat. The skirt was ankle length and wished this way and that with her hips as Dagny walked. All of this once again caused her mother to sigh at her daughter for the third time that day. _So very beautiful, _Nuri thought.

Dagny offered her mother a wry smile and continued speaking. "Not that I have ever heard of someone dying from _lack _of activity although there is a first time for everything."

Nuri smiled at her child. "No I suppose not," she said speaking in Gallia, her native language. "However if one stayed like that for several months, perhaps years, their bones would forget what they were supposed to do in the first place and be nothing but mush when they finally decided to move again." Dagny let her dimples show as her smile deepened. _Her father's dimples_, Nuri thought. Another sigh escaped her lips. Then as if she had read her mother's mind Dagny stopped smiling and quietly said, "I brought you something." She reached into the tiny pocket hidden behind the metalwork of her dress and pulled out a small onyx pin in the shape of a flying sparrow encircled by a ring of red-gold.

"Papa's pin," Dagny explained still speaking in English. "I had it polished by the jeweler this morning; he even fixed the clasp on the back." She turned it over in her hand and pointed at the new metal rod that held it together. "I was hoping you would wear it today," Nuri confessed, "Or perhaps Della. Your father loved celebrations like this."

"I would but . . . I know how much it must mean to you today," Dagny said. She didn't speak of the festival but of a more significant date. Today was his birthday. She would take honey cakes and a bottle of the best rum she could find to the beach later today as gift in his memory. She and Della did this in secret every year and planned to this time but Della had _other priorities_ to attend to so, Dagny was left to her own devices this year.

Her mother finally took the pin in her hand and clasped it to the cuff of her undershirt. She pulled her daughter into her arms and held her like that for a long time. "Your father would be so proud of you," she whispered into Dagny's ear.

"For what?" she asked almost melancholily. "Staying put, keeping the family afloat, _not _being a complete narcissist," as she listed off each act of what she called Eldest Child Of Single Parent Duties she put out a finger starting with her thumb. "It is nothing."

"But it _is _something," Nuri insisted to her child for what she felt like was the hundredth time. She knew how much the child missed her father what little memories she had of him. She also knew how much she longed for a certainty that their life did not call for. Her strong daughter wanted to be sure. She wanted to be sure that she didn't fail the family, that she didn't slip up, that nothing ever happened to her mother or her sister. Never had Nuri seen her daughter bend under the pressure she bestowed upon herself but her heart still ached that it was even there. She took Dagny's face in her hands and looked her in the eyes. "You and your sister were his greatest success and as I watch you grow and see you thriving everyday I know that I can feel him smiling on us. And honestly," Nuri continued with a grin on her face, "I dream of him boasting in Valhalla about his warrior daughter. He takes all the credit too, saying that it's from his side of the family." Her hands shake as she chuckles and works a smile out from her daughter too.

Dagny stepped away from her mother's embrace and cleared her throat. "Perhaps you should roll everything up the parade will begin in half of an hour. I'll go on ahead and meet you beneath the clock tower," Dagny stated. Her mother nodded in correspondence. Dagny had passed three vendors and was about to round the corner when Nuri called from behind her. "Do look for your sister," she exclaimed, "Dagny! I mean it find our little duck before the parade begins! I expect for her to be at your side when I see you again!"

"YES, MAMA!"

* * *

Loki had had a bad morning to say the least. He was still rather tired from the voyage to his kingdoms neighboring continent when a maid woke him up before the sun had even _rose_ in the sky by knocking over the pile of books he had brought with him from Midgard. He was not a morning person, honestly he despised all hours before noon. Everyone knew it. So, why was anyone surprised that he had yelled at the insolent twit to the point of tears? Nonetheless Father had scolded him for it and if you have never had the pleasure of being screamed at during what according to Loki was still the wee hours of the night he can stand to tell you; it is not pleasant. Nor is it particularly sleep inducing, which also meant that instead of even _trying _to go back to sleep he put his anger to good us and covered Mjolnir's handle in glue that much to Thor's displeasure smelled like old grapes. After that he dressed himself and decided to walk around the stables and then the hotel and then the market where he found a vendor who was willing to sell him some hot bread and a steaming cup of _excellent _tea.

His bad morning was only mostly worse than what was becoming his not so pleasant afternoon. He didn't return to the inn until roughly an hour before the parade was about to begin. This time it was not Father's rage that greeted him but instead his mother's exasperation. The look on her face when he stepped back into his room to find her sitting at the foot of his bed was one that simply read _Do right or so help me I will spank you for the first time in forty-five years. I don't even _care _what your father says_. So within five minutes he was in his full ceremonial amour and helm ready to break hearts, woo citizens, and kill men all in the same day. It was truly stunning. The queen smiled at her youngest son and rose from the bed.

"You look handsome today, my son," she said standing in front of him smoothing out his shirt, "And I have no doubt that several other people will be agreeing with me after the parade. So, hopefully that will be enough to keep your mischievous urges at bay for the rest of the night." Frigga looked her young son in the eyes which held their own mischievous glint to them.

The prince chuckled at his little mother. "If they do not I will keep my _'urges at bay'_ for your sake," he promised. His mother smiled and laid a hand on his cool cheek.

"I love you, my son," she whispered. "I love you too, Mother," was Loki's reply.

She gave him a peck on the cheek and then with a glimmer of light Frigga was gone and Thor was determined to knock his bedroom door down. "Come, Loki! The horses are ready and we have but a quarter of an hour to be in the city square!"

The prince looked at himself in the mirror, magicked away the dark circles under his eyes, and walked out the door. Thor clapped him on the shoulder with his smelly hand and laughed. "Clever, brother," he chimed, "But I believe you could, and _have, _done better."

"Do you speak of the time you awoke with your bed in the hayloft of the stable or the time you walked around the palace naked for a half an hour because I made you believe you were wearing your new armor?" Loki joked with a knowing smirk.

His brother laughed again as they made their way to the stables. The sun way high in the air and caused them both to squint as it glared menacingly at their persons. Thor removed his hand from Loki's shoulder to hold it above his eyes. Loki doubted the glares from their armor were helping much in the matter of seeing.

"Good thing we ride to the west, is it not?" Loki asked as he mounted his horse, Valka. He looked life the definition of sophistication upon his powerful Andalusian mare. Her coat and well-kept mane shined in the sunlight as did every glinting piece of metal on his body. He had decided against his cape that day which allowed a, well, perfect view of the tight yet flexible fabric covering his toned arms. His tunic stopped at the beginning of his leg leaving his powerful thigh and calf exposed to the wandering eyes of women, or men, hoping to see something else. He felt powerful, poised, and confident. _Mayhap,_ he thought to himself, _I will break a heart or two tonight. _Loki's smirk grew ten fold at the thought.

_This wasn't __Jör_ or Asgard City where everyone just knew that Thor was the better brother. This was Hulda, he thought, _if I can just manage to stay far enough away or far enough ahead they will see me first. I'll be my own man instead of a shadow. Maybe just maybe this will be a good day after all. _


	2. Chapter 2

Dagny was thankful for the thin material of her dress because it was sweltering outside. She could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on her forehead and as she reached to wipe it off with the back of hand, she longed for a cold drink. Just as she imagined how she would tilt, her head back once she found a cool class of water a different source of relief entered her line of sight. Ice-Sickles. Dark red, likely pomegranate flavored, Ice-Sickles. Dagny smiled in spite of herself. It had been so long since she had tasted one. She remembered the last time her father had been healthy and how he had purchased one for her and Della during their stay in Asgard. _They had been purple, however. If I had one of these,_ she thought to herself, _and let the little lines of syrup run down my face as I had then I would look more akin to a cannibalistic murderer than a child tasting the sweet ice for the first time._

Dagny had a rather morbid sense of humor at times and at other times, when not in the presence of her sister it was mostly non-existence, so you will have to excuse her. Either way she walked briskly past the young man with smiling eyes who was selling them rather that indulge him with the coins in her purse. She continued down the hard cobblestone path and further away from the oncoming parade until she was in a now quiet part of the city. Along with being quiet it was also very much run down and if you had watched her carefully enough you would have noticed the sureness in her steps. One, whom was paying very close attention, could have guessed that she could walk these humble streets in the dark and find exactly what she needed to. In addition, if that single person continued to pay attention to this girl, who walked with her shoulders back and her head held high in the air as if she were royalty, he would have easily concluded the rather pathetic truth she lived here. She had grown up here. Also, that ever since her father died she truly despised the place.

Perhaps, she loathed her home even before then, or was it just that she wanted out. She hated being stuck here. She wanted to see the worlds. Yet, she had rarely been outside the city lines and only to Asgard once. _Fate was cruel_; she had decided when she was barely twelve. Dagny had been outside playing on the sidewalk while their mother was at work. They had been told to stay inside that day because of the heat but it was unbearable. She had just finished her new book and Della had just put together the same puzzle for the eighth time that day so they decided, "What's a little step onto the front porch?"

That however soon turned into, "Well, the fountain -" which is not really a fountain just a tiny pond that happened to form during the monsoon season and someone managed to find a way to erect a statue in the center of it - "is only a few feet from the porch." Somehow, that lead to them running up and down the sidewalk with the other dirty, little slum children. Then it happened. A driver lost control of his horses as Della, careless little Della, was running across the street. It was then that she used up the last of her family's luck by managing not to be trampled by the two horses that drew the carriage. She _was _however caught underneath the front wheel before the driver jerked his ride to a halt. Dagny still remembered how then everything had seemed to move so slowly. The people were slow getting to Della and her. She didn't remember how she had gotten to her sister's side or even that she had drug out from underneath the carriage, thrown her over her shoulder, and carried her to their front porch where she had lain her down. The blood had seemed brown as it seeped onto the light green fabric of her play clothes and poor Della's tears had shined brightly against her colorless face.

The adults that surrounded them by then had tried to pull Dagny away so that they may see Della's injury but the older sister had slapped one of them _hard _across the cheek the moment he sought to move Dagny from her little duck's side. So, instead of trying to move her they had simply handed her a cloth to press against the gash on her clavicle until the rickshaw had arrived to take them both to the nearest healer. Della had cried out when her older sibling touched the bone that had been protruding from her skin and had done so repeatedly until she passed out from pain at the Medicine Hall.

The official diagnosis was major fracture to the collarbone. An ugly scar and lump was left when it finally healed. Then the day came soon when the healers had to finally collect their payment. Over half of their savings were gone and that meant that for the first time in her life Dagny went to bed hungry because the other half was used to pay rent. From that day on it seemed few good things ever happened to the Bergljot family.

"I used up all of our luck didn't I?" asked an eleven year old Della when she woke up her sister in the middle of the night. "I was lucky. I broke my collar and lived and used it all up, didn't I?" she sputtered as tears slipped out of her eyes and her entire body shook like a leaf. Dagny had sat up and sleepily shook her head. Then she pulled her little duck close to her and patted her back before pulling her into the bed as well.

"Of course not," she had whispered.

"B-but I did! You're hungry now too because of me-" she shouted before Dagny put a hand over her mouth.

"Do you want to wake up Mama?!" she had scolded but that only made her cry harder. Dagny kept a hand over her mouth to muffle her wails as she continued to talk to her, even though snot was beginning to drip onto her fingers. "It's not your fault, little duck," she whispered into her ear with an exasperated and affectionate tone. "Luck doesn't decide the fate of the world. Luck is . . . luck is just a tiny gift from the gods when they feel like bestowing it. It does not mean anything; it cannot even be kept for long. It comes as quickly as it goes when the heavens decide."

"Does that mean the gods,-" hiccup "- hate us then?"

"No," Dagny said. "All that this downward spiral in our existence means is that fate is cruel." Yes, fate is cruel because time and time again, something happened and the dice would roll against their favor. This usually left Nuri with two jobs and Dagny picking up where she left off sewing in the middle of the night to earn her keep. Her childhood had been robbed from her. Nevertheless, Dagny did not consider herself a martyr and new that thinking of such sadness only made her weak.

* * *

As Dagny reached her destination, she drew herself out of her detour down memory lane and knocked on the wooden door in front of her. A voice was heard from the other side. "Who seeks to drink from the tortoise-shell?"

"A thirsty tiger seeking the companionship of an inquisitive cricket," Dagny answered impatiently. It was not ten minutes before the parade was set to begin and Mama would be waiting for them underneath the clock tower. Stupid opening hours, she thought to herself. She heard a click and thought that the door was about to open and stepped back. Instead, a small peephole was drawn back and a pair of thin lips greeted her.

"The tiger must stay thirsty and alone then for we have neither water nor time for stupid crickets," the ugly lips said. Oh no. They have turned us down, Dagny thought. And they threw out Della.

* * *

_Useless! The lot of them, useless! _Della screamed inside her head. She had perfect reason to be angry just as Dagny had perfect reason to be worried when she finally found her waiting outside the Erikson's teashop/ headquarters. Honestly, what good are gangsters if they cannot forge you the documents you need to board a ship.

"Tell me again," Dagny pleaded exasperatedly, "What exactly did they say when they denied you?" Della stopped in her tracks and turned around abruptly to face her sister.

"I have told you twice already! Are you so incompetent that you cannot remember the substance of a three minute long conversation!" she shouted at her older sister. "Or have you simply gone deaf?"

Della regretted it immediately. Dagny rarely got angry; no, she was too patient to be _truly _overwhelmed by such a demanding emotion. Instead, she became quiet and she grew cold. Her grey eyes turned into steel daggers as they zoned in on her little duck. She arched an eyebrow and with a scoff said, "This coming from the girl who once tried to cook a rabbit without skinning it or cleaning it? We hungry that night because of your incompetence, mind you."

_Ouch, _Della thought. Dagny leaned in very close to her and crossed her arms. "Don't talk to me about inability. You sew pretty dresses _occasionally. _I work everyday with _et fivyman_ forging weapons. Remember that?" Della looked down at her shoes somewhat ashamed (and otherwise annoyed). _Really the victim card? _

Either way she need not be annoyed or ashamed for long because after six long seconds of glaring at Della Dagny came back to herself. She lifted up her sister's chin with her index finger and locked her in the eye. The two of them were the same height however; Della had a tendency to shrink down whenever she felt threatened. How quickly it seemed that she had went from seething with anger to feeling small and ready crawl beneath a rock.

Dagny offered the tiniest of smiles and straightened Della's red dress before saying, "We need to know why, little duck, so that we can try again."

"Why? They will just keep turning us away," Della argued. Well, she meant for it to be an argument statement but it came out more as a whine. Dagny did not reply but instead gave her a half-pleading half-demanding look. Therefore, she repeated, for the third time, the exact events that took place in the Erikson home.

"I did exactly what you said to," Della began and she did. She walked down to the well to see if her flag had been moved from beside it in order to let them know that she wanted to do business. The flag had been taken away and in its place was a small tortoise shell with a dead cricket inside. So, the next day she went to their home, knocked three times and when asked who wished to drink from the tortoise's shell she replied, "A cricket seeking knowledge!"

Then she was ushered into the house and put in front of a large fat man with dusky skin and eyes the color of whiskey. _"_Speak,"he had told her in a gruff voice. Therefore, she told the man why she needed his family's services. "My sister and I seek voyage to the Capital City of Jör. However we do not have passports."

"So go get passports," he rudely replied.

"We have not the money or the time for legal passports," Della told the ugly man with his pug nose.

"If you do not have money for the legal ones why do you think you have money for mine?" he interrupted again.

"We don't. _However, _we are willing to offer something else," Della, said. When the chubby man did not respond, she continued. "My sister is an apprentice at a blacksmith's forge, my mother is a seamstress. Both are jobs with very little income. My uncle on the other hand is treasurer to Bjorg Åsdisbørg, the Executive Manager of the Royal Asgardian Depository. That job _does _make quite a lot of money. Money which my Uncle Mats would be happy to pay with upon our safe arrival."

The ugly, fat man rubbed his beard and thought for a moment. He took out a pouch from his shirt pocket and pulled a nut out. He popped it into his mouth and with a distinctive _crack_ began to eat it, shell and all. Five nuts later, after he was seemingly done with his snack, he spoke again. "If your Uncle is so rich why won't he pay for your passports now? Certainly he could pull a few strings and even then time would no longer be an issue."

"You are right," Della had said, "And normally he would have except with the king and his sons visiting not many people are willing to do much off color dealing."

With a humph he stood up from his table which looked like it took much effort because he leaded every which way to move and balance himself. "Then neither will I," he said before leaving the room. Della called after him several times and even begged him to reconsider, as his men were busy throwing her onto the street.

"See," Della, said to Dagny finishing her story. "He just decided not to. No reasoning, no nothing really. I do not understand why he would be worried about the law seeing as how nearly _all _of his business comes from breaking it!"

Dagny groaned and ran her hands over her face. "Your right," she said. "There is no point." She started nibbling on her thumb as she paced in front of Della who leaned against a wall beside her.

"What are we going to do?" she asked her sister grimly "Our deadline is the day after tomorrow. Mama leaves tomorrow morning. What's going to happen to us?"

Dagny stopped pacing and she stopped nibbling. She looked to her little duck, which was called that because of the softness of her long dark hair that greatly resembled the feeling of a duckling's down, and saw the lost look in her eyes. Oh, those sweet cocoa brown eyes. You could see everything about her in those warm eyes. Della rubbed the lump on her clavicle over the collar of her tunic, which she often did when she was nervous. Dagny was about to move to comfort her younger sibling when the left side of her mouth quirked up to form a smile. "Perhaps Uncle Mats really will send us something," she said with a giggle.

Dagny smiled at her sister's humorous quip. _Uncle Mats. _That was a road that the family rarely traveled on. It was true that he made a fairly larger amount of money that their mother, which was why they sought his help now. The downside was that he had a horrible personality. And yes, I say personality because when you have been angry for nearly three millenniums it has officially become a significant character trait. Uncle Mats the Constant Sufferer he had been dubbed by their mother when Papa was still alive. He had chastised her for say so about his own brother but Dagny still remembered how her had tried to hide his snickering as Mama kept cooking. Although they hated it, they needed his help now more than ever.


End file.
